


Demons Don’t Get Sick...?

by starryeyedhomicide



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, SHUSH, crowley is Sick with Unspecified Illness bc I’m lazy, oh and Aziraphale kinda dies over anxiety BUT HES OK DONT WORRY, projection? nah ;), why do I write em so pining? why??, wrote this @ 1am let’s fuckin go lads, ”boo hoo he doesn’t love me” he does you FOOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedhomicide/pseuds/starryeyedhomicide
Summary: It’s been several days since Aziraphale has seen Crowley, so he inflicts a surprise house call on an unsuspecting demon who he may or may not be in love with, who happens to be Ill.





	Demons Don’t Get Sick...?

**Author's Note:**

> PREPARE THINESELVES FOR A CLUSTERFUCK  
is it almost 2am? yes. am i crying? yes. is it my own doing that i am crying? absolutely  
enjoy!!

It had been several days, and he was beginning to get worried.

After Armagedd-didn’t, Aziraphale and Crowley had been going to lunch almost every day together. They were dates, plain and simple, but both of them were too shy (and too proud) to admit to feeling anything on the romantic scale towards the other, even though both of them were pretty much off-the-charts in love. Their last ‘meetup’ had been three days ago, and Crowley had left Aziraphale’s bookshop with a smirk and his heart racing, unaware that behind the door an angel was quietly smiling to himself about a certain pair of golden eyes. But the next day, Crowley didn’t call, and the day after that, and then didn’t answer his calls. Aziraphale didn’t want to seem pushy, and definitely not obvious, but he was starting to get worried. What if Down There decided to pay a visit? He couldn’t take the risk of not finding out. And also, he missed him. Life was more exciting with his demon around, and he made him feel all bubbly and wonderful and a crisp spring morning or being curled up in a tartan armchair with a good book and some cocoa. He couldn’t explain his feelings very well, but he knew it was love. And he also knew he could never let Crowley find out.  _ Their friendship would be ruined, everything would be awful and terrible and he would never feel the same and-  _ Aziraphale was getting lost in his thoughts. Back to business.

Here was the thing: Crowley never told Aziraphale where he lived.

Here was another thing: Aziraphale was a nosy bastard.

Using powers of angelic scrying, he had found out in the 1990’s after a particularly vicious argument. It had been over something stupid, and he couldn’t remember, but Crowley had stumbled out of the without a word, drunken and fierce and eyes alight. Aziraphale’s guilt had taken over his anger, and he used some miracling to find the address. He would have visited the next day to apologise, but Crowley turned up on his doorstep at 11:23am with a bottle of Cheval Blanc and some freshly cut hyacinths. He didn’t say sorry, but Aziraphale could feel his apology in his bent shoulders and side glances to see if he was still angry. He instantly forgave him, and they saved the wine for later that evening when they would get pissed drunk and have a wonderful conversation about curtains. But Aziraphale kept the knowledge tucked away, and now? Now was his time to shine.

He decided to walk. It wasn’t too far, and he could mull over what he was going to say on the way, and maybe do some good in the streets. It didn’t matter anymore, not now that they had their own side, but old habits die hard. And besides, he liked doing nice things!

_ Crowley! Just checking in on you seeing as you didn’t talk to me for days- _ nope, too needy, he thought, making it so that the young woman trying to unlock her bike got the right combination and found a fiver in her pocket.

_ Hello Crowley! I was getting worried about you, because I haven’t seen you in a bit-  _ damn, he still sounded pretty desperate. As he crossed the road, with a wave of his hand the old man’s rheumatism improved, the businessman remembered he left the oven on and a baby started giggling. He smiled at the humans as he walked. They were so simple, so easy to figure out - except their emotions of course, which were just about the hardest thing ever.

He kept thinking about different ways to phrase it, and getting none of them right. He was so lost in thought that he almost walked past the grey building tucked between two apartment blocks. The front door was unlocked, and lead up some stairs to a black door with a snake doorbell. He would have chuckled if he wasn’t out of breath - he wasn’t very good with stairs.

He braced his shoulders and shifted from foot to foot nervously. The thought of seeing Crowley was overridden by his concern, but his heart still beat a little faster.

Raising his hand, he knocked four times and waited in silence.

The door swung smoothly open to reveal an apprehendsive looking demon with a plant mister in hand. His face smoothed when he realised it was Aziraphale, but was quickly replaced with both suspicion and interest. Aziraphale’s pulse became staccato as he struggled to find words in his throat but luckily, the demon beat him to it.

“Aziraphale, what the hell are you doing here? And.. how do you know where I live?” Crowley wheezed, and then became aware that he wheezed, and tried to make his voice sound normal mid-way through the sentence but it just didn’t work and came out like a broken accordion. The angel would’ve laughed if he wasn’t worried.

“Well, ah,” Here came the tricky bit, “It’s been a while and I was just a little, uh, nervous that you were alright…? And it could be possible that something happened to do with Down There, so I thought I better check…” A blatant lie, and Aziraphale cringed as the words were coming out of his mouth.  _ Good job, you absolute teapot. _

Crowley, bemused, stepped aside to let him enter. His eyes took on curiosity and perhaps something more- but Aziraphale couldn’t let himself think like that. Now more than ever. Entering the apartment, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. Blank grey walls, dark ebony furniture that was at least 100 years old, and cold atmosphere… unsurprising for a demon. He took note of the singular red throne with golden varnishing, though, and his mind had just started to wander about a certain long-legged demon sitting in it when those sinful thoughts were interrupted by a painful-sounding cough. 

“Aziraphale?” The demon in question was leaning against his door frame and now that he noticed it, looked rather.. pale. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face puffy and blotchy- he stooped as well. He didn’t seem to care about his poorly appearance though, and began to ask a question when the angel gasped.

“You’re sick!” Immediately Crowley frowned and shook his head in denial.

“No I’m not. Demons can’t get sick!”

“Crowley, you’re clearly ill! So  _ that’s _ why you’ve been hiding away..!”

He shook his head firmly and began to protest but started coughing, and tried to hide it to no avail. Sighing, the demon pinched the bridge of his nose and walked (stumbled) past Aziraphale in a vague direction of more grey walls. Following him, Aziraphale reached the tidiest kitchen he’d ever seen. 

_ “ _ I understand now, dear. But I do wish you would have answered my calls, I was getting anxious.” His heart thudded dangerously at that. Was that okay? Was that a thing normal friends said? Crowley didn’t seem to notice, as he was getting wine out of a high shelf, so he reassured himself it was fine and mentally continued the beaten track. Then he realised wine  _ really _ wasn’t good for general unwellness and began to speak, but Crowley silenced him with a look that said  _ I don’t fucking care, I need a drink.  _ Besides, alcohol had become a part of their routine, but that wasn’t what was best for him right now, so Aziraphale glared in the kindest way he could muster and Crowley reluctantly put the bottle back. Funny how so much could be said in glances- they do say the eyes are the windows to the soul. If Crowley’s soul was as beautiful as his eyes it would be the most magnificent thing ever- but Aziraphale knew he mustn’t dwell on such things. Not good for the heart, you see.

“I’ve been sleeping, angel. Sorry for worrying you.” _Ah. He didn’t forget about you! Wait no, hush. If he did, it wouldn’t be a big deal anyway as you’re__ just friends._ _That’s all. Nothing more, and there never will be. _Crowley turned to him, unaware of the angel’s inner turmoil.

“Fine then, I may be feeling a little under the weather, but that doesn’t mean I’m sick.” He said the last part with some defiance, as if saying it would make it real, but broke off coughing and had to lean against the cupboards to keep from falling over. Aziraphale stepped to support him, and Crowley moved back, steadying himself. His stomach lurched, and he told himself it didn’t mean anything, but there was still the tiny paranoia that Crowley didn’t want Aziraphale anywhere near him. Anxiety could lick- no, kick- his butt seriously. 

This was disproved when seconds later the demon leaned on his shoulder and rasped in Aziraphale’s ear if he could take him to his bedroom, and the angel’s pulse somersaulted - those words had only been uttered in darkest fantasies, but now was a time of responsibility; he must look after his friend.

Struggling round the maze of slate-coloured walls, he heaved the demon into a room with black walls and a king-sized bed that looked too comfortable to sit and read in because you would fall asleep. He hadn’t been so heavy; Crowley was stick thin and hardly ate, but it was still nerve-wracking to have the demon draped around his shoulders. Considering how light he was, he could have carried him bridal-style, but that was a little past friendship, even if he wanted to. Gently pushing Crowley into the cozy bed, he pulled the heavy covers over him and patted his shoulder gently, taking good care that his friend was alright. He didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t.

“I’ll make some tea. Don’t worry dear, be right back.” Of course tea was the solution. Living in England had that effect, and even though Crowley wasn’t massively fond of the beverage he kept his pretty mouth shut. Letting his eyes trail after the angel, he almost smiled, but a throbbing behind his eyes made him close them and return to pictures in his head. He floated around Aziraphale in his dream state, eyes lingering over soft hands, soft wings and a softer smile, blue-covered novels and tartan jumpers, a heart that loved books and cocoa but never, ever him. 

He was halfway between slumber and consciousness when he heard the soft padding of feet. Opening his sore eyes, a smiling Aziraphale had entered with a tray of tea, biscuits and what he hoped was painkillers. A confused voice in his head murmured that he didn’t have biscuits, not since That One Time, but he hushed it. He drank the angel in, soaking up his warmth, his kindness and concern, and he could have sworn something deeper, but he daren’t probe. Besides, in his bed-ridden state he hardly could.

“Sorry I took so long dear, your kitchen is quite impossible to find anything in! But I managed.” He looked bashfully at the tray and awkwardly placed it on Crowley’s stomach (as he was on his back) but he took a grateful sip and instantly felt better as the hot liquid warmed his insides. Call it intuition, but he knew the angel had done Something to the tea to make it healing, but he didn’t say anything. It was already a kind gesture, and he didn’t want to ruin it. But his mind wasn’t in the best place after popping several pills the angel provided, so he went and did. Kinda.

“You.. never answered my question.” He croaked.

“What’s that dear?”

“How- how do you know where I live?”

_ Fuck _

Aziraphale drew his hands to his sides and his shoulders lowered, body shrinking smaller in fear. He swallowed thickly, fidgeted, and continued.  _ Oh boy _ .

“Well. Um. Remember when we argued and you stormed out? Years ago, ‘96 I believe it was. I felt so awful and I wanted to make it up to you the next day with flowers and chocolates so I.. used some heavenly assistance to find out where you lived. I’m so sorry, it’s rather prying, but I promise it was with good intentions!”

Aziraphale shut his mouth quickly, seemingly silencing himself. He hated himself in that moment, but he said nothing, both desperately needing and dreading the demon’s response.

Crowley, however, could cry.

Aziraphale, so quick to reassure that he was Good. Aziraphale, concerned enough about him not just to make a house call but to google earth him, angelic-style; but the wonderful bastard probably didn’t know that existed. Aziraphale, who had come here to see if he was alright. Aziraphale, who had always been worried if he was alright. Aziraphale, who… who loved him! Aziraphale, who loved him? Aziraphale, who loved him.

_ Oh my fucking god. _

Had he always been this blind?

Realising he’d been silent for quite some time, Crowley had a thousand words crashing around in his mind, rustling their way round like playing cards, and right now he felt like the ace of hearts. Pushing the only words he could muster out of his dry mouth, he closed his eyes as he spoke the supposedly immortal words. The second the words hit the air the tension climaxed and shattered like breaking glass, and he felt his medicine-addled mind break with it.

“I love you too.”

  
  


Aziraphale could’ve sworn he died.

“You- you what? I-? Crowley you-?! I’m...”

Stuttering and gasping for breath, his eyes filled with tears. He was crying? He was crying and he didn’t even know why. Heart breathing and lungs were beating, all bodily functions mixed up and whirled together, his brain a cacophony of sound and noise and  _ Oh my god he does? This can’t be real, it can’t be- love? _

Years of pining, years of hiding it and keeping quiet and  _ cover it up cover it up cover it _ and heartbreak and wine all leading up to this? This final, fatal moment? He couldn’t believe it. But he had to. This was real, this was now, and tears were flowing freely from his eyes as though streams of ichor from a god’s wounds. Had She inflicted wounds upon him? He was dying, he had to be. But… dying in a good way. This was too much, too much, too much.

Crowley’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Aziraphale’s quiet sobs and he gently took his hand. The angel gazed into his eyes with such raw emotion that Crowley could’ve started crying too, but the medication had set in and he was starting to only see a beautiful blur of a broken man. He said nothing.

Overwhelmed with emotion, he knelt by Crowley’s bedside and whispered two words softly.

“How long?”

Crowley chuckled with a sore throat and winced, and not just from his vocal chords.

“Too long.”

They thought about this in silence. The atmosphere was awkward, and weird, but neither of them cared any more. They were too wrapped up in what had just happened, the  _ rather fucking massive _ event that had just changed both their lives and would continue to do so for the rest of them. But there were still problems. This was a Big Development for both the agreement and their friendship - because now it could be something more - but it definitely needed more discussion, and the time for that was Not Right Now, so they agreed to talk about it-

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. There’s always more time, love.”

Aziraphale, letting go of his hand, left Crowley to sleep. A silent promise passed between them that he wasn’t leaving, just relocating to give him some quiet, and some time to think. They both knew the angel would never leave his side again. Besides, now they had all the time in the world. And they had each other, and that? That was what mattered.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> oh wow they really do love each other huh?? :O  
i wish someone loved me like that dnsjks AHEM dhsjsk   
me?? heartbroken?? its more likely than u think fellas  
idk why im tellin yall this lmao  
I hope az bein Very Overwhelmed by emotions came through in this bc i feel that a lot and I wanna let characters feel it too and know it’s ok?? U know what I’m saying?? I don’t know what I’m sayin I’m full of BS asjsjkxkdk  
hope u enjoyed!  
tumblr @starryeydhomicide


End file.
